The Way to a Man's Heart is Through His Stomach
by Sylindara
Summary: Ryou's bentou are a work of art, literally. Too bad Aomine's art class grades are as bad as everything else. Written for OTP Battle on basketballpoetsociety Tumblr


It had started so small that Daiki, despite having more than once boasted he knew every type of Ryou's bentou and could work out his cooking even blindfolded, didn't realise anything was different until weeks after it had started.

In his defence, in the beginning it had just been a bit more effort put into the bentou that Ryou had long since given up on not making for him. The egg rolls were cooked a bit more neatly, the furikake spread a bit more evenly on the rice, the separators for the dishes a bit nicer than the cheap, ugly, plastic things they had been; just little things like that. Stuff that Daiki hadn't thought much of at the time beyond: Ryou's gotten better at cooking.

Then the bentou art had started and even Daiki couldn't ignore that. The first one had been a basketball made of grated carrots and seaweed resting lightly on top of the rice instead of the usual furikake. Coming on the heels of their loss to Seirin at the Winter Cup, Daiki had thought it was supposed to be an attempt to cheer him up and left it at that.

But the art got progressively more extravagant and culminated on the eve of the year-end exams, a time in which Daiki found himself besieged on all sides now that the Generation of Miracles were all talking to each other again and some people – who shall remain unnamed – had decided to restart their mother henning of Daiki and Kise's grades. Having stolen a bit of private time for himself – not on the roof where Satsuki was sure to find him, but behind the gardeners' shed: usually a spot for the delinquent smokers before they were driven away by Daiki – to enjoy his bentou in peace and quiet without Satsuki spouting maths formulas at him, Daiki was astonished to find his own face staring at him when he finally opened the lid. On closer look, he could tell that it wasn't actually his face but a surprisingly realistic rendition made out of – okay, he wasn't actually sure what most of the ingredients were, but since this was made by Ryou it was probably really delicious.

Still, even Daiki felt a bit awkward taking a bite of his own face, leaving him squatting there awkwardly staring at a rendition of himself.

"Holy shit, did your girlfriend make you a bentou with your face on it? That's hilarious! She's gotta be super into you, you sports types are so lucky." One of the delinquents, feeling a bit foolhardy and twitchy from the lack of nicotine, had sneaked up on Daiki when he was distracted. Reminding himself that he still needed to win against Seirin next year, Daiki slammed the lid down and left without a word.

Daiki let his feet take him down the familiar path to the basketball clubroom, clutching the bentou to him and thinking over what the delinquent had said. _She's gotta be super into you. _Was Ryou into him? Was that why the bentou had started tasting better over the past few weeks? Why they looked better too, as if more effort had been put into them? Was that the reason for the bentou art? And if it was, what did Daiki want to do about it?

As if by fate – not that Daiki believed in that stuff, even though the subscription to OhaAsa that he'd never bothered to cancel had told him that morning that Virgo was in first place and that their lucky item was food from a loved one – Ryou was shuffling awkwardly in front of the clubhouse door, an envelope held conspicuously in his hand.

"Ryou." Daiki still wasn't sure exactly what he wanted, but making Ryou spill his guts seemed like a good first step. "What's this?"

Looking at the bentou suddenly thrust into his face, Ryou did what he always did – bow and apologise. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, it was Momoi-san's idea! She said that the way to a man's heart was through his stomach and that you were really narcissistic so this was the best way to get your attention. I'm really sorry!"

"Yeah, you got my attention alright," Daiki said, rubbing at the back of his neck awkwardly.

Ryou lifted his head at that and Daiki unconsciously sucked in his breath. He recognised that look, had seen it on the basketball court so many times it was etched into his heart. The look didn't waver as Ryou opened his mouth and said, "I'm not sorry about trying to make you fall in love with me though."

It was the bravest thing Daiki had ever heard him say. Looking down in embarrassment, Daiki eyes swept past Ryou's feet and he remembered – he knew _exactly_ what he was going to do. "Hey, your shoes have been getting a bit ratty. I'll take you to a place I know this weekend. They do discounts for me," Daiki said, trying to gauge Ryou's reaction. "We can go for lunch first. I'll treat you in return for all the bentou."

"Really?!" Ryou squeaked in surprise. It was obvious that he wasn't expecting this answer. "I'm sorry! Yes, please! Sorry!"

Daiki turned away, business concluded. "I'm gonna go eat my lunch before the bell rings. See you at practice."

"Um! Sorry! But can we eat together?"

"Don't you have business in the clubroom?" Daiki asked, turning around to look at Ryou.

"No, not anymore," Ryou said, crumpling the envelope into a ball and tucking it into his pocket. "I don't need to anymore."


End file.
